


A Whole World in Here

by PromisesArePieCrust



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PromisesArePieCrust/pseuds/PromisesArePieCrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne returns to Melbourne toward the end of 1930. Written as a play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phryne's Garden

EXTERIOR, PHRYNE'S HOUSE, GARDEN

[After Phryne’s welcome home party, a warm, late night. Phryne and Jack look up at the night sky, holding cocktails.] 

JACK  
A whole world out there?

PHRYNE  
It’s not untrue.

JACK  
No, it’s not.

PHRYNE  
I’ve heard you discovered so, first-hand.

JACK  
I wasn’t sure you’d come back.

PHRYNE  
A sensible worry. After the market crash, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.

JACK  
I’m happy you’re here, finally.

PHRYNE  
I am too. [A pause.] What’s she like?

JACK  
Phryne—your message. I wasn’t sure you’d come back.

PHRYNE  
You said that. And I’m not upset. Let’s just…catch up. Talk to me.

JACK  
I wonder if I should go. I wonder…[She is standing very close to him now.] I don’t feel confident we’ll just talk. 

PHRYNE  
I am perfectly capable of just talking. It’s a familiar tale for us, is it not, Inspector—just talking? A comforting pattern?

JACK  
I really didn’t think you’d come back…

PHRYNE  
Jack, I don’t blame--

JACK  
I know. [A pause.] Some of me wishes you were upset.

PHRYNE  
Yes, well. If she’s captured your attention, she’s likely wonderful.

[A pause.]

JACK  
I’ll go. I’ll see you another time. You must be exhausted.

PHRYNE  
Please stay. I thought about you on the flight home. I thought about you quite a lot. Possibly mostly about you. I broke a record.

JACK  
A flight record?

PHRYNE  
Yes. [A pause.] What’s she like?

JACK  
[Reluctantly] She’s smart. Unconventional. Insightful.

PHRYNE  
[Misty-eyed] I like her already.   
Help me catch up on the newspapers. I’ll read aloud the official version of events and you can give me the unofficial version.

[She grabs a newspaper from a stack on the porch. She moves a small kerosine lamp for reading light and burns her finger, bringing the finger to her mouth. Jack removes the burnt finger from her mouth and puts it in his iced cocktail. They look at each other.]

PHRYNE  
Mine would have served just as well.

JACK  
I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

PHRYNE  
Shall I have Mr. B make a new one?

JACK  
No.

[He slowly removes her finger from his glass, holding her hand. It looks as though he wants to suck the liquor from her finger. Neither moves.]

PHRYNE  
Well, let’s see what the Melbourne police have been up to in my absence. Hmm, it says Mrs James Carlisle reported a theft from her garage of two bicycles. Not your department, I know, but surely you have a personal interest in the safety of the city’s bicycles?

JACK  
I sent over the police sketch artist to get their likenesses. No leads yet, unfortunately.

PHRYNE  
I believe you to be joking, but I don’t really know. That’s a compelling trick, Inspector Robinson.

JACK  
Have I possibly beguiled you, Miss Fisher?

PHRYNE  
More than you likely know.

[A silence. She puts down the newspaper and stands close.]

JACK  
Her teaching contract ends in January. She’ll be going back to England.

PHRYNE  
And is there an understanding that you’ll give her a reason to stay in Melbourne?

JACK  
No, the understanding is that she’ll go back to her family in England. A comforting pattern.

PHRYNE  
Ok, then. [A pause.] You didn’t think I’d come back…so why didn’t you come to me?

JACK  
Why didn’t I quit my job, sell my house and spend my life savings? [She offers him a challenging smile, to say ‘it wouldn’t be unreasonable.’] Don’t think I didn’t consider it. Often. But, ‘There’s a whole world out there,’ right? I suspected, believed that it had gotten to you before I could. And then your message seemed confirmation.

PHRYNE  
I’m sorry my message was cryptic. I don’t have a talent with written words. And I was more than a little disappointed you didn’t up-end your life at my whim, so I suppose that came through too. [She is clutching his lapels.]

JACK  
Your pouting is much more effective in person than by telegram.

PHRYNE  
Clearly.   
[She lifts her forehead to his cheek, closing her eyes, taking a slow breath. They do not kiss, but their faces move around each other tentatively, slowly.] Your letters were magnificent. I memorised them.

[A long pause. He kisses her, though with obvious restraint.]

JACK  
I’m so happy you’ve come home.


	2. Mary's Flat

INTERIOR, MARY’S FLAT 

[There are boxes and books and a lot of papers spread around. Mary is tall and clearly has the bearing and dialect of an educated English woman, but this is somewhat at odds with her directness, casualness, and cheerfulness, which speaks of an American influence.]

MARY  
Handy-spandy, Jacky dandy!

JACK  
Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

MARY  
I can’t deny it. No, wait, I do deny it! Vehemently!

[He smiles and kisses her hello.]

MARY  
I don’t have plum cakes and sugar candy, Jacky dear, but I did pick up some marvellous oranges. 

[She tosses an orange to him and seats herself casually on the sofa, peeling and eating her own orange.]

JACK  
A bit more of a mess around here than normal.

MARY  
The preparations begin…five more weeks, dear. Sorting out what to keep and discard after two years.

JACK  
You are more cheerful than most people when sorting through the detritus of an era.

MARY  
Would you like me to be glum?

JACK  
No. Be yourself.

MARY  
Good. There is enough gloominess in academia. All that contemplation does things terrible things to the disposition. Mercifully I’ve had the debauched company of a divorcee to keep me sufficiently aware of goings-on below my neck. You are an excellent antidote to overthinking. 

JACK  
Happy to be of service.

MARY  
I hope it was a mutual service. 

[Serious, sensing his mood.] 

I care about you, Jack. I wouldn’t have…this [she gestures between them] wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t.

JACK  
I know. I feel the same.

MARY  
Has something changed? Do you want me to want to stay?

JACK  
I’m happy that you are…living your dreams, wherever that is. 

MARY  
But…

JACK  
It feels…I seem to be someone who is easy to leave.

[Mary moves to him.] 

MARY  
You’re not. I’m putting on a brave face.

[She hugs him and speaks while embracing him.]

MARY  
Is it a consolation that if I’d met you about 15 years ago I would have sobbed into my pillow every night, writing poetry on the unfairness and futility of existence?

JACK  
It might help some, yes. I suppose 15 years ago that’s what I would have hoped to evoke.

MARY  
And time marches on, and things change. 

The university offered to extend my contract.

JACK  
[unsure] That’s…

MARY  
But it would still be a temporary position, and I don’t like that uncertainty. It was tempting though, believe me. Tempting to stay here…

JACK  
I do believe you.

MARY  
But…I’ve been offered a permanent position in London. It was not an easy offer to get, and I don’t feel confident that I’ll get another. 

[Jack nods.]

Would you like to come with me?

[A surprised silence]

As my husband.

[Continued silence]

All right, Jacky, you give it a think. I’ve got some essays to mark.

JACK  
Don’t retreat. 

MARY  
I’m not. I’m giving you time. You seem conflicted. 

I’ve thought about you coming with me, daydreamed about it, but it didn’t seem fair to ask you to uproot yourself. I thought perhaps if we were married…it would seem more appealing to you.

JACK  
And to you? Would it be appealing to you?

MARY  
I’ve never thought of myself as a “family woman.” I don’t know. No, to be honest, marriage has never been exactly what I would call appealing. But you are the first person I’ve met whom I think it might be…interesting to live with and share things with. I must sound terribly romantic right now.

JACK  
You sound terribly honest right now, which at this stage in my life I can appreciate as much as romance.


	3. University

EXTERIOIR, UNIVERSITY

[Mac and Phryne sit on a bench outside of the University. Mac is smoking.]

MAC  
So you’re not already out on a caper? It’s been a week since you’ve arrived. Are you losing your touch?

PHRYNE  
Hmmm. Simply reestablishing a client base. Apparently when you’re gone for over a year you lose some credibility. I haven’t stumbled upon any corpses, and haven’t spoken to anyone at the police station since my homecoming party…

MAC  
[Mac snorts.]

“Anyone at the police station…”

[Phryne diverts the conversation by showing Mac a coin, then takes Mac’s cigarette and pushes it through the coin. She displays the result and is clearly impressed with herself.]

MAC  
Oh lord, I see you’ve taken up magic again.

PHRYNE  
It was either that or flower arranging. I spent too much bloody time in the country with my parents.

[Mac takes her cigarette back.] 

MAC  
So, since you are not plying “anyone at the police station,” am I to understand that you’ve come around to see if I have any suspicious deaths for you to investigate?

PHRYNE  
It is an endless delight to have a friend who understands you so well.

MAC  
I agree. But this friend has nothing more interesting on her table than a 95 year-old with double pneumonia. 

PHRYNE  
Oh well. I can’t blame you.

MAC  
You can’t. 

So, as a friend who understands you so well, I am also getting a strong suspicion that the reason for your visit is more than a simple lack of cadavers.

PHRYNE  
I couldn’t turn down a morning walk on such a…oh, damn it, Mac.

MAC  
You want to meet her.

PHRYNE  
Is that terrible of me?

MAC  
No. Terribly human.

PHRYNE  
I haven’t felt _that_ in a while.

MAC  
Don’t worry, you’re still mostly goddess.

She’s been good company. She told me that they offered to extend her contract for another year…she’s rather popular with the students. You’ll like her too.

PHRYNE  
So I’ve told myself.

[Mac finishes her cigarette and nods the direction they should head.]

INTERIOR, MARY’S OFFICE  


[There is a group of several desks, apparently reserved for temporary lecturers. Mary is arranging a small vase of flowers at her desk.]

PHRYNE  
That’s a lovely arrangement.

MARY  
Thank you. They look nicer when they’re pilfered—there are some lovely specimens around this building. 

MAC  
Mary, this is my oldest friend and Melbourne’s finest private detective, Phryne Fisher— newly returned from England. Phryne, this is Mary Eliott, visiting lecturer, also from England.

PHRYNE  
[Offers her hand.]

I’m happy to meet you.

MARY  
A pleasure. Please, sit.

MAC  
Phryne has just returned by plane. She piloted the trip there and back. 

MARY  
Oh, how dramatic. You _flew_ to England and back? Quite a lot of effort! What inspired you to make such a romantic journey?

MAC  
Phryne has always had a taste for the difficult.

PHRYNE  
[Shooting Mac a look.] 

It didn’t feel like much of an adventure. It was more of an errand to deposit my father home after he missed his boat. Most of the time I was extremely uncomfortable, and my father is nothing short of boorish company. It wasn’t what I’d call a romantic journey.

MARY  
Well, that’s…I’m sorry, never mind.

PHRYNE  
“That’s” what?

MARY  
It’s…Please forget I spoke.

PHRYNE  
[intrigued] I’m not easy to offend, I assure you.

MARY  
Well, it’s just a bit odd to go all that distance to take your father home because he missed his boat, isn’t it? You could have just taken him to meet his next port in Asia, right? So if it wasn’t for the adventure or the pleasure of flying with your father, and you didn’t really want to go back to England, well, please forgive me, it seems that you just really wanted to leave Melbourne. 

[Mac looks at Phryne, who refuses her gaze.]

It seems quite a far way when there is nothing for you there really. 

[Phryne grows thoughtful. Mary is slightly embarrassed, but tries to keep the conversation going.]

I’ve been happy here, but I am eager to get home. 

[Mac gives Mary a questioning look.] 

Yes, I declined the extension.

MAC  
I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll miss you. 

[Mary becomes flustered and blushes.]

MAC  
What is it?

MARY  
Just, speaking of missing…I…Mac, I asked him to come to England. Forgive me, Miss Fisher, this probably is very uninteresting to you, but I just feel like I’ll burst. I’ve been…I’ve had a nice acquaintance in Melbourne, a kind man, and I’ve— possibly foolishly— asked him to join me in England.

[Phryne goes white.]

Is something wrong?

PHRYNE  
No…I’ve remembered another engagement. It was very nice to meet you Mary. I wish you the best of luck in your last weeks here. Mac.


	4. Jack's Office

INTERIOR, JACK'S OFFICE

[Phryne has come directly from the University. She bristles as she notices a small vase of flowers on his desk.]

PHRYNE  
Hello, Jack.

JACK  
Miss Fisher. To what do I owe the pleasure? An injustice I need to address?

PHRYNE  
I’ve come to ask…if you need any help. 

JACK  
Any cases that need a consultant?

PHRYNE  
Yes, exactly…

Well, that’s partially true. 

JACK  
Partially?

PHRYNE  
No, that’s not true. It might have been true about two hours ago…

JACK  
I’m not following.

PHRYNE  
I’ve come to ask…

JACK  
[He can see she is struggling.]

I didn’t get the chance to talk to you about your trip. 

PHRYNE  
Yes, the trip. It was…well, exhilarating, of course. The trip…it was better knowing you. I wanted to describe things to you.

JACK  
Such as?

PHRYNE  
Flying. Watching the world grow simultaneously smaller and larger. I think you would have liked that.

JACK  
I would have. 

[A pause.]

[Gently, trying to get to what he imagines her visit is really about.] I know the flight was unnecessary. I know you could have done any number of things to let your mother know he was detained and it wasn’t his fault. 

PHRYNE  
Jack—

JACK  
I know you could have caught him up to his ship. I know the journey was about something different for you.

PHRYNE  
[Quietly] I've been considering that for the last few hours. I do think I wanted to forget you.

JACK  
“No need to come, best wishes.” Your telegram made that clear.

PHRYNE  
There was no need, and I did, I do wish you the best. What could I do? My hands were tied, Jack!

JACK  
You always manage to find a way. 

PHRYNE  
The estate was practically parcelled away, my mother knew little of the extent of their financial deterioration, their investments were—

JACK  
Yes, I understand. But still, be honest. In a few months you could have righted things, hired competent financial advisors—

PHRYNE  
How clever of you to know all about it without knowing a thing about it.

JACK  
And tell me, are their finances so different now, compared with six months ago? Is everything perfectly at rights, so you felt free to return? Or, possibly, did you know about Mary before you flew back? And it felt safer? Easier to come home once you knew I was occupied?

PHRYNE  
We said the words “romantic overture” but beyond that there was precious little. A kiss on the airfield…

JACK  
There was plenty said without words.

[They lock eyes and pause.]

PHRYNE  
But not enough to make a push to travel to see me, when I was unable to return.

JACK  
I found tenants. I was ready to rent my house. Ready to buy my bloody ticket when your telegram came.

PHRYNE  
Why didn’t you tell me?

JACK  
What difference could I imagine it would it have made? You seemed to be happily galavanting—what else was I meant to think of your message? That was your intended meaning, was it not?

PHRYNE  
No, it was not! I simply didn’t want to hope.

[A pause.]

Are you in love with her, Jack? Are you going to go away with her?

[Jack gives her a puzzled, disturbed look—he doesn’t understand how Phryne knows about Mary’s invitation.]

I met her today, Mac introduced us, she mentioned it to Mac. Don’t be embarrassed or upset, that’s not the point. I just want to know—

JACK  
I don’t know.

PHRYNE  
So there are possibly _some_ whimsical, world-crossing beckonings that you’ll respond to?

JACK  
It was a little more structured than that. She asked to marry me.

[Phryne is sincerely taken aback.]

PHRYNE  
Oh. She’s quite young—

JACK  
Not so young—

PHRYNE  
Of course not, I don’t know why I said that. It’s just a surprise.

JACK  
Yes, to me too.

PHRYNE  
So you are considering—?

JACK  
I don’t want to discuss this with you. I need to speak with Mary.

[A pause.]

I apologise for kissing you at your party. It was…

PHRYNE  
If you say ‘a mistake’ I might slap you.

JACK  
Premature. 

[Quietly, almost apologetically.]  


Phryne, I do want to be married. 

I passed up an opportunity after Rosie, and knowing that, at the the time, it didn’t feel right was a cold consolation those first months after…during some very lonely times. I know people don’t have to be married to be family—you display that admirably. But I’m not effervescent, I’m not charismatic in the way you are. I don’t draw people to me the way you can.

PHRYNE  
[Crying.] Of course, Jack. I understand. 

JACK  
I crave something steadier. Something I understand better. 

PHRYNE  
You don’t have to apologise for your proclivities.  


[A pause.]  


Goodbye, Jack. 

[She turns to leave. After a step she turns back to him.]

Prior to my life here, I have always been defined by my relation to men. While I am my mother’s daughter, more importantly I’m my father’s daughter, as he is the titled one and the one whose name I have. I’ve been “ma copine,” or, by the availability of my boudoir, a vamp— 

[Jack tries to interrupt.]

Not by you. Or not only you. I don’t blame you, I’ll claim the name myself, that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is that, all of these things that I supposedly am, or was, are really very watery, poor descriptions of me. But they still impose limits, they still define. 

But stripping these identities, as I did when I first arrived here…claiming my own, the ones I wanted…it has been more exhilarating than anything I’ve experienced in my rather eventful life. My two years in Melbourne were the best of my life. 

JACK  
Phryne…

PHRYNE  
Can you imagine how uneasy I am at the thought of being primarily defined by my relation to a man again? To be a wife—

JACK  
I didn’t ask you to marry me.

PHRYNE  
You thought it. It was in your eyes.

I’m not trying to attack you, I’m just trying to explain.

JACK  
And what did your eyes say?

PHRYNE  
I couldn’t see my own eyes.

JACK  
You are infuriating.

PHRYNE  
And you are a coward.

JACK  
More so than you? 

[At this, she does turn and leaves.]


	5. The Green Mill/Mary's Flat

INTERIOR, GREEN MILL

[Phryne enters the Green Mill, dressed to the nines, eagerly scoping a dance partner. She notices Mary at the bar, chatting with the bartender.] 

MARY  
What a surprise. [She hesitates only slightly.] Would you like to join me?

PHRYNE  
You’re here alone?

MARY  
Yes…are you meeting—

PHRYNE  
No. But I’ve really only come to dance—

MARY  
Of course. Enjoy.

PHRYNE  
[Reconsidering] But a drink, to get started, is not a bad idea.

[Phryne orders. They drink in silence for several moments.] 

MARY  
So, what has it been like, a homecoming? I don’t know what to expect when I return. 

PHRYNE  
My homecoming in England, or my homecoming in Melbourne?

MARY  
Which one is your home?

PHRYNE  
[A small smile] Melbourne.

I expected things to have changed more. I am thankful to find my household roughly the same, but I feel very changed. 

MARY  
And how do you feel changed?

PHRYNE  
I couldn’t say exactly. The first time I fled to Melbourne, it was largely circumstantial, likely short-term. Coming back this time felt more deliberate. I had made a choice. In my mind, Melbourne is associated with freedom, and I had chosen freedom.

[A pause]

MARY  
I feel quite changed as well.

PHRYNE  
Changed how?

MARY  
Well, for one, I finally felt I got out from underneath my rather inauspicious start in academia. 

PHRYNE  
Oh?

MARY  
[Mary finishes her drink and considers Phryne.]

I was married briefly—

[Phryne is clearly surprised.]

That was roughly the response I gave Thomas when he first asked me to marry him.  
He was an American, like my father. Foreign, but familiar. Painfully confident. I did love him, but I was uneasy to marry anyone. In the end, however, my eagerness to begin an adventure outside of my childhood home outweighed my unease.

PHRYNE  
When did you separate? 

MARY  
We didn’t. Two years after we were married he was thrown from a horse. [Quietly] Oxford began matriculating women that fall, and I took it as a sign.

I was made to feel it was unseemly, to have begun my studies so soon after his death, and, secondly, to be enjoying it so much. I’ll admit I did feel unsettled about it, as though Thomas had to give up his life in order for me to have mine.

But in Melbourne I haven’t been down that grim path. I’ve only thought about how much I love writing and teaching, how much insight the students bring. I haven’t thought about how I should be feeling about my career—I’ve only been enjoying it. 

PHRYNE  
Yes, being able to enjoy what you enjoy without being told how you _should_ be feeling about it—that is a triumph. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been especially concerned with the opinions of others, but battling them continuously does exhaust one. I’ve found that I expend my energy in much more useful ways now that ‘what I should be doing’ is a very rare topic.

MARY  
How had you expended energy previously?

PHRYNE  
Occasionally, with what is expected of a peer’s daughter, but, more often, anything that would oppose that expectation. Which, in itself, is exhausting.

[A pause]

I was thinking about why I might have wanted to leave Melbourne. As you said, it wasn’t necessary—

MARY  
I’m sorry, we’d only just met, I should have been more sensitive—

PHRYNE  
No, I asked you, and it was accurate. 

After finally being the person I wanted to be, feeling able to breathe full, glorious gulps of air…someone in my life became important in a way that threatened that. I both welcomed it, feeling as though I was certainly strong enough to make some compromises—a few wouldn’t shake the integrity of this free, new being I’d become— and balked at it, thinking I’d definitely lose myself and lose the way of life I had come to love.

It had happened to me before that I’d fallen in love and become submerged by it. I let myself be treated poorly, despite it being just after I’d reached a new peak in my self-confidence and independence. Even when you feel strong there is always someone who can make you feel weak.

The men are dissimilar. My former lover was a sociopath. And I don’t rationally believe this new man will treat me poorly. But I know even kind, well-intentioned people hurt each other.

MARY  
I remember times when I felt more lonely with Thomas than I ever had as a single woman. 

PHRYNE  
Yes. Lonely and somehow, inexplicably, at fault for it. 

The fear of tainting this new connection that was so meaningful, so lovely, sent me away when the first flimsy excuse presented itself.

MARY  
It is a gamble. I can only say that I find connecting and sharing more rewarding than not doing so. 

PHRYNE  
Still. I’m not certain what I can offer him. Or what he can offer me.

MARY  
Do you need to be certain?

PHRYNE  
I’d say it’s preferable. I don’t intend to toy with him.

MARY  
No. But nothing is irrevocable. We can make mistakes. We can learn. 

[A pause]

PHRYNE  
How did you meet your kind Melbourne man?

MARY  
He was paging through an illustrated book of native flowers at the library. Mac and I were there on an errand, and she introduced us. I told him I’d seen the specimen he was looking at in the Botanic Gardens, that I would show it to him if he liked.

He was sad, when I met him. He feels deeply and thinks deeply and it takes him to a place that’s a bit sad. 

But he listened in a way that was more…practiced than I was accustomed to, particularly among men. I didn’t mind the sadness, it was never overwhelming. I think he is possibly kinder because of it, that his sadness has polished him somehow. And when he is playful it is such a reward.

[Phryne smiles.]

It occurred to me after you left that, as a private investigator, you possibly know him. Jack Robinson?

PHRYNE  
Yes, I know Inspector Robinson.

MARY  
[Carefully] It also occurred to me that your relationship with him might be more complex than a private investigator and a police detective’s. 

PHRYNE  
Oh?

MARY  
By way of your expression when you left the university this afternoon.

[Phryne remains inscrutable. Mary smiles kindly and squeezes Phryne’s hand.]

MARY  
I’m afraid I must get back to my flat.

PHRYNE  
Company?

MARY  
Or somesuch. Good night. And welcome home.

[Phryne sits alone. She finishes her drink and tries to muster some interest in dancing, but grows increasingly agitated and decides instead to leave.]

 

INTERIOR, MARY’S FLAT

[Jack enters Mary’s flat, takes off his hat and slowly puts it on the table before looking at her to speak.]

JACK  
I can’t.

MARY  
I know.

[She kisses him tenderly, then hands him his hat back.]


	6. Jack's House

INTERIOR, JACK’S HOUSE

[Phryne is asleep on Jack’s sofa, in her clothes from the Green Mill. She wakes as Jack enters and sits up. Jack notices her with some surprise, but his reactions are a little slowed from liquor. He doesn’t move toward her.]

PHRYNE  
Hi.

JACK  
Hello.

PHRYNE  
I waited outside but it started to get cold.

[Jack nods.]

May I have something to drink?

JACK  
[Moving to get a drink]

You pick the lock to my door, but opening the liquor cabinet is a breach of propriety?

PHRYNE  
I didn’t want to rifle. But, just some water, please. 

[Jack brings her some water and pours himself a whiskey. She takes a long drink from the water glass while still seated, then carefully moves toward him.]

PHRYNE  
Perhaps I treated you poorly.

JACK  
No, you didn’t. I would love to think you did. 

PHRYNE  
Why would you like to think I treated you poorly?

JACK  
To feel indignant, or morally superior? I don’t know. None of my answers put me in a particularly good light. But you were never anything less than honest with me.

[He drinks deeply, and looks into his glass rather than at her.]

I’m accustomed to discomfort. I crave it, I think. I maybe feel I deserve it.

PHRYNE  
Jack. 

JACK  
I long anticipated that you would disappoint me, regardless of whether you actually gave me reason to believe you would. It was unfair to you. 

PHRYNE  
Oh?

JACK  
That night we had dinner plans, and your father showed up…I was half-expecting things to go poorly before you even called. I was looking for mistreatment and I found it, even though it wasn’t actually there.

It’s hard to explain the grim joy of feeling wronged.

PHRYNE  
Jack—

JACK  
You’ve caught me at a particularly difficult time. Please, I need some quiet.

PHRYNE  
[A pause. She embraces him cautiously.] 

I mislead you by making you think I didn’t care. I knew how you would interpret my telegram. 

It was more true that I was hoping not to care. It was more a message to convince myself.

JACK  
[He touches her hair.]  
And why did you want not to care? Why did you want to forget me?

PHRYNE  
I’ve developed skills to take lovers and not feel changed by them, to remain unperturbed…

JACK  
But I perturb you?

PHRYNE  
It would be more difficult…To be wholly known, it’s rather…

[He is looking at her intently; she looks away and moves back slightly.]

Have you spoken with Mary?

JACK  
Yes.

PHRYNE  
Are you going to England?

JACK  
No.

PHRYNE  
That’s…

[She nods and breathes a bit easier. A pause. She gives him an assessing look.]

What does it mean to you, to be married? 

[Jack finishes his drink and, rubbing his head as though it aches, pours another whiskey and drinks it rather quickly.]

JACK  
Please, this isn’t a conversation for toni—

PHRYNE  
[She takes his glass and puts it aside.]

I’m being brave, Jack. Humour me. Is it that it’s a sanctioned life—

JACK  
No.

PHRYNE  
An easy way to refer to someone?—

JACK  
No.

PHRYNE  
I want to understand.

JACK  
[Rather upset.] It’s that when difficult times come, as they are bound to, the parties won’t flee. It’s making decisions together, with the other in mind. It’s feeling supported and willing to give support.

I don’t really know. That’s from the top of my head. Let me take some time and I’ll write you a treatise.

PHRYNE  
What’s—

JACK  
You want me to want you, but not want you _too_ much. 

PHRYNE  
Sorry?

JACK  
You’re happy that I’m staying, but I can already sense your hesitation building in the 20 seconds since you’ve known I’m unattached again. I don’t know how to balance it properly, to want you, but only want you just enough; I don’t know how to be half…

PHRYNE  
Half what?

[He shakes his head.]

PHRYNE  
[Quietly] You think I don’t want to be loved? 

[She asks the question honestly.]

PHRYNE  
Darling, whatever we arrange, it might not be traditional, but it wouldn’t be unloving.

JACK  
And I’m meant to hide, a grown man skulking, slinking down back staircases and leaving at early hours?

PHRYNE  
You wouldn’t need—

JACK  
Among your set, perhaps not. But if I wish to maintain my position in the police force…or for my family…it would be untenable.

PHRYNE  
How was it not untenable with… I don’t mean to compare, but—

JACK  
There was not…a courtship is one thing. What I think you are suggesting is another.

PHRYNE  
Tell me what I’m suggesting.

JACK  
You want me to abandon hope of marrying you and assume that anything you offer me is completely temporary. You want me to visit your bedroom but not disrupt the rhythm of your life while I do so. You want…

PHRYNE  
[She backs away, put off by his tone.]

That’s enough.

JACK  
Oh? I feel I’ve just scratched the surface of the things you want…

PHRYNE  
There is nothing wrong with wanting.

[She turns to leave.]

JACK  
And you want to be the one to leave. Always.

PHRYNE  
[Quite loud] You’ve left me before too. 

[The anger and hurt in her voice is obvious. A pause while this resonates.]

Anyway, you need quiet. Don’t let me interrupt your wallowing.

JACK  
[He reaches for her.] I’m sorry.

[He kisses her abruptly and somewhat roughly. She kisses him back but soon breaks away and leaves.]


	7. Phryne's Parlour

Scene 8 PHRYNE’S PARLOUR

 

INTERIOR PHRYNE’S PARLOUR

[A few days later, late evening. Phryne is seated at the bay window in her parlour puzzling out a card trick when Jack is announced. She stands and he walks toward her. They do not speak immediately.]

JACK  
Twice now I’ve spoken to you when I’ve had…when it was unwise to do so.

PHRYNE  
That’s a rather strained apology.

JACK  
It’s not a complete apology. I regret the manner in which some things came out…

PHRYNE  
But not the content…Very well, what would you and your partial apology want from me this evening?

[She approaches him to pass by the chairs and return the playing cards to the shelf. He stops her en route. They look at each other. They are very close.]

JACK  
It occurred to me after my haze lifted that you came to my home to see if there was a way that we might…you were trying to be conciliatory and I couldn’t see it. For that I am very sorry.

PHRYNE  
Ok. 

JACK  
[He takes her hand.]  
Phryne, I do want to find a way to be with you, a way that could suit you, that could suit us both. [Sincerely, tenderly.] What does it mean to you to remain unmarried? 

[A pause.]

PHRYNE  
You wrote to me about my spirit…that it was contagious…indefatigable, you said, and how alive I made you feel… 

Marriage implies, by my observation, some degree of deference to the male party—some assumption that even if both have needs, his needs are primary. I could not thrive as the gracious, self-sacrificing, invisible helping-hand of a man. No matter how kind or worthy he is. The spirit that you love would not survive it.

[Jack nods slowly.]

Remaining unmarried means feeling expansive as opposed to pinched or merged— maintaining an identity. It would be so easy to disappear, Jack, I don’t know if you can sympathise or imagine it, but it would be so easy to allow decisions to be made for me—not easy for my personality, but easy because it is what is expected of me. 

[Jack gives her a questioning look.]

You’ve witnessed how I’m treated because of my sex, and I suspect you can imagine the kinds of things said to me in your absence— the insinuations about my competence, the subtle jabs. Continued attempts to make me feel irrelevant and unimportant. It could be so easy to believe it. Maintaining self-possession, confidence in the face of this is not effortless.

JACK  
You don’t think I would—

PHRYNE  
On purpose, no, I don’t. But it’s what you’ve grown up around, it’s what you probably find easiest and natural. You are a man of your time. And I certainly was aware of it to some extent when we first met.

JACK  
Yes.

PHRYNE  
It’s not only what you’ve known, it’s what I’ve known as well, what I’ve observed all my life. I worry about thoughtlessly sinking into that way of life too. [Quietly.] I have before.

[Jack remains still while he takes this in. He slowly kisses her hand.]

JACK  
What do you suggest? 

PHRYNE  
I don’t know exactly. Nothing that I’ve seen so far.

[A pause. Phryne brushes her lips to his cheek.]

Thank you for coming tonight, for listening.

JACK  
It was my turn to be brave. 

[She smiles.]

PHRYNE  
The other night…my timing was poor. 

JACK  
I was happy to see you. I always feel a pleasant shock when I see you.

PHRYNE  
A shock? I aim for a burn.

JACK  
Well, same family.

PHRYNE  
[She brushes her lips along his jaw.] It is frightening to feel this much.

JACK  
Yes.

[A pause while they tentatively kiss.]

PHRYNE  
What you said before about feeling supported and willing to give support…that was quite lovely. 

[Jack kisses her again quietly.]

JACK  
May I take you to dinner tomorrow? 

PHRYNE  
Yes. [Kiss.] And, occasionally, could you find good reason to slink down a back staircase?

JACK  
Yes. [Kiss.]

PHRYNE  
In that case…I’ve finished my nightcap—which is traditionally followed by bed.

JACK  
Well—you know how traditional I am.

[They kiss for long moments. The kissing grows more heated. They move to the bedroom.]

END

(Narrative version of glorious sex in the next chapter.) 

 

_What wild and wonderful adventures  
we shared together._

_Full of spectacular thrills  
and endless laughter._

_We were always exploring  
or discovering something new._

_Often,  
without ever leaving the room._

Beau Taplin (contemporary Melbourne writer), The Thrill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking this journey with me and for your support and comments. I am making major life decisions right now, and writing this was such a restorative project/distraction. I love your insights and suggestions— you all give me a lot to think about. If you would like to send me a private message, I am on tumblr at promisesarepiecrust@tumblr.com.
> 
> For the non-native speakers, Jack and Mary address each other from Mother Goose Rhymes (nonsense children’s poems) in Chapter 2:
> 
> Handy-spandy, Jacky dandy,  
> Loves plum cake and sugar candy.  
> He bought some at a grocer’s shop,  
> And pleased away went hop, hop, hop.
> 
> Mary, Mary, quite contrary,  
> How does your garden grow?  
> With silver bells, and cockle shells,  
> And pretty maids all in a row.
> 
> Oxford began matriculating women students in October 1920 (though some women had attended lectures and taken examinations before that, they were not officially graduates). http://www.oua.ox.ac.uk/enquiries/first%20woman%20graduate.html
> 
> In the late 19th century there was some marital property reform in England, such that women could maintain their own income and property after marriage, rather than it becoming the husband’s. My understanding of coverture in general is not comprehensive, nor of Australian law, but I don’t think Phryne would have been considered a legally separate entity if she were to marry. The last of coverture laws were abolished in the US 1980s, but the legacy remained in several forms, one of which is in voting restrictions (the idea being that a man and wife are of the same mind.) I live in Switzerland and in one canton (state, basically) women were not allowed to vote in local elections until the 1990s. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coverture#Abolition https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women%27s_suffrage_in_Switzerland
> 
> When asked why she had changed her mind about marriage, Gloria Steinem responded: “I didn't change. Marriage changed. We spent 30 years in the United States changing the marriage laws. If I had married when I was supposed to get married, I would have lost my name, my legal residence, my credit rating, many of my civil rights. That's not true anymore. It's possible to make an equal marriage.” http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/10/19/road-warrior-profiles-jane-kramer


	8. Phryne's Bedroom

She manoeuvred him to the bed, kissing him wildly, continuing the frantic pace they’d begun in the parlour. The kissing was celebratory but tinged with fear, like the sensation of being pulled from the brink, of yanking a child from traffic only just in time, of spotting a poisonous snake one step before disaster…of almost losing each other. 

The rhythm of their kissing slowed and they gradually paused, transitioning. She slid her jacket off, as did he, their eyes holding contact. His look rattled her. It made her feel like telling him all her secrets and simultaneously feeling like she already had. She had never felt less worldly. 

“Phryne,” he whispered reverently, touching the ends of her hair. She was surprised to find herself blinking back tears as she slowly placed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Jack,” she whispered in response, but nothing followed. He shook his head and ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then tugged at it with his teeth.

She slid from his embrace and moved to the vanity, picking up her black case. As realisation dawned on his features and his cheeks pinkened a little more deeply, she gave him a small smile. “I’ll be right back…make yourself comfortable,” she said with a passing caress of his cheek. She swung a simple black silk nightgown over her forearm and headed for the bathroom. 

While changing, Phryne caught her reflexion in the mirror: tousled hair, bright eyes a little red from emotion, and flushed cheeks. She took stock and wondered, not for the first time this week, what exactly she was doing.

Referring to sex euphemistically as “dancing” had always felt apt to her. Sex, like dancing, is not a particularly complicated thing—several basic moves mixed and strung in variations. The dance is always a little different, depending on musculature, preference, inspiration. Most times it was social and pleasant, the two parties feeling ineffably more open and aware of the other after the dance finished. Sometimes it was a thrilling dance, a whirling dervish in prayerful ecstasy. Always it felt alive, alert, human, living moment to moment—something of the best of us.

The expansive feeling in her chest and weakness in her knees told her this dance was likely going to be different. 

She laughed, noticing the similarity to pre-flight jitters, took a full breath, and greeted this, whatever it was, with the spirit of an adventuress.

He stood when she came back in the room. He had taken off his shoes and tie, and, she noted as she moved closer, removed his cufflinks. His vest was unbuttoned and his shirt billowed slightly-- the overall effect, taken with his flush and disheveled hair, was one of a shepherd boy roaming the English downs; he looked so unbearably innocent and good that she felt a flippant comment begin to form, something to save herself from drowning in earnestness and goodness. But he approached her with calm intent, pressing his lips to her neck, and her comment died, replaced with something unbidden and honest.

“I love you.” The words tumbled softly from her lips. He froze.

For terrible seconds Phryne felt fear tingling in her extremities, believing she had possibly misread him—misread him completely. Perhaps he was not in love with her; or, possibly worse, perhaps he thought she was being untruthful. 

“Jack?” she whispered, more than a little aware of the tremor in her voice. The answering squeeze that she felt close around her torso gently began to ease her anxiety. He buried his face in her neck, then spoke lowly in her ear, his breath unsteady with emotion: “I had hoped, but I wasn’t certain…” he trailed off, kissing her mouth with desperation and depth, telling her exactly how much he had hoped. She responded in kind, breathless and thoughtless.

They couldn’t come together quickly enough. They moved to the bed, making short work of the garments on his lower half, and she pulled him up between her legs, her silk nightgown and his shirt left unheeded, maybe needed, a second skin protecting them from feeling too much at once.

His entry was gentle and unassuming-- soft gasps, panting, and pleased mewling. Quickly they began a rhythm that was unsustainable in its fervency, but felt necessary, as though they were destroying past frustration and pain between their crashing pelvises. 

Joyful, celebratory, like a dance, some part of her mind mused, though her choreography was lost, escaped her, replaced with something new, something inelegant and earnest, something that broke her swelling heart.

He began to slow and, as he evened out his breathing, withdrew. “Sorry, I…I’d just like a pause,” he spoke on a ragged breath, watching her eyes. “Of course,” she breathed, her eyes following him as he slid beside her. She was captivated, her slim palms lingering over his face and neck, then listlessly working at his shirt buttons. She gave up her half-hearted attempt with his buttons, however, when he kissed her and reached down between her legs, pressing and swooping and pressing harder when her breath caught.

Helped more than a little by his kissing and the sensation of his erection twitching at her outer thigh, she felt the sensation of openness begin to intensify, openness supported by and fighting against contraction. She rolled on top of him, and breathed a quick “Please?,” to which he nodded, and she sank atop him, exhaling a song. A quick, guttural “God,” was all Jack could manage. 

She came, exposed to the universe, her ribcage cracked, her insides strewn about. Open, open, open. Unearthly in its wonder and expansiveness, earthly in its need and rawness.

The whole world, she knew, was magnificent—full of mystery, sensation. The whole world was a full, rich, overflowing delight. And here in this little city, in this tiny house, tiny room, on this tiny bed, _here_ — this was magnificent too. She laughed and cried.

She caught sight of him through her giddy haze and kissed him, rolling them so that she was on her back. She bucked her hips up, encouraging him to move as he pleased and soon his joyful moan filled the room. He moved to withdraw, but she wrapped her legs around his, binding him to her like a vine. He smiled at her, and, resting on one forearm, slid his free hand under the silk to stroke her breast with his thumb. “My love,” he said quietly, experimentally. “And mine,” she responded, kissing his trembling lips.


End file.
